


Beneath the Gray Fire

by Michelle_A_Emerlind



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Asexuality, Asexuality Spectrum, Bottom!Rick, But I imagine them as versatile in the future, Canon-Typical Violence, Cold Weather, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Exploration of sexuality, Hypothermia, M/M, Prison, top!Daryl, virgin!Daryl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 19:33:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3301034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michelle_A_Emerlind/pseuds/Michelle_A_Emerlind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a winter run, Daryl and Rick find themselves cornered in a basement and turn to each other for warmth and other things. But in the morning, Daryl is quiet and angry. Is this the start of a relationship? Or did Rick misinterpret the whole thing?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beneath the Gray Fire

To the west are Walkers and the fine powder of a recent snow, unusual for Georgia but of course the weather would pick the apocalypse to show its true colors. To the north, there are more Walkers coming as well, converging on their position and to the opposite side is a sheer cliff, jutting straight upward into the southern sky.

Which leaves east the only direction they can go. East, into the creek when the temperature can’t be higher than 15 degrees and the wind is whipping hard, making the chill dangerously low and the sky is threatening to spill even more snow out onto the forest ground.

But between the herd of Walkers and the creek, the water is safer. And besides, Rick can see a cabin beyond, the snow and debris around it hinting at abandonment and a safe place to hole up. If they can make it there. He turns to tell Daryl they have to cross, but of course, Daryl doesn’t have to be told twice. He’s already rushing to the creek bed and skipping across the rocks he can find there, trying his best to keep his clothing dry. Rick follows him and thanks his lucky stars that it’s Daryl with him out on the supply run. Someone he trusts, someone he can rely on. Someone who moves with him as easy as the ice cold creek current.

Daryl is halfway across when Rick gets to the first rock jutting out of the creek, which makes Rick closer to the Walkers, with one coming up right behind him. He spins around, but before he can lift his knife, an arrow is soaring through the air and into the dead man’s forehead. Rick spares one glance over his shoulder at Daryl, one nod, and then he is pulling the arrow out and rushing forward across the rocks and the shallower path. They make good progress and the herd slows down behind them, either entering the creek and the rough current or making their way across the slippery rocks and tripping. They bottleneck in the shallow end and Rick lets his hopes soar for just a second before he sees one that the water has pushed further inward, forward to Daryl.

He opens his mouth, but it’s too late. The Walker grabs Daryl’s ankle, which is enough to cause his forward motion to twist and all Rick sees is Daryl and the Walker and then the surface of the water as they are under. He rushes forward, tenses his muscles to dive, but then Daryl’s head breaks the surface mere seconds after he had gone down and Rick watches his hand lift, knife glistening, and slam down below the water.

Daryl scrambles upward, the water not deep in the area, but still around his waist and he’s trudging out of it and Rick is running across the rocks lightning quick to the other side. Then they are both out of the creek and they hit the ground running hard. They make it halfway to the cabin before the first Walkers are out of the creek and Rick knows that even this small of a herd could take down the house. But it’s their only shelter and the back of his mind is ringing alarm bells about the cold, water, and hypothermia. Rick crashes through the door of the house and Daryl swings his crossbow around so that he can cover the herd behind them. Rick sees him start to shiver and he works quickly.

The house is empty of Walkers and small, only three rooms, but then Rick sees the most perfect sight he has ever seen in his life. A metal trapdoor in the corner, leading down. Rick reaches for it and prays and it opens. In the dying afternoon light, he can see the stairs going down and he reaches quickly into his pocket for the flashlight and scans. Empty. “Basement!” he calls to Daryl and drops down into the bomb shelter like expanse. He hears the front door close, a chair sliding against it and then Daryl is scrambling down the ladder to the basement and slamming shut the trapdoor, locking it.

Rick swings the flashlight around at their circumstances and at Daryl. Daryl is really shivering now and he stumbles slightly as he sits down. “Fucking cold,” he says and Rick doesn’t have to be told to jump into action. He starts examining the room, the few chairs and one end table that decorate it, the closet that has been looted already, and several boxes in the corner, stacked up and left untouched, with one suitcase perched precariously on top of them. Rick throws the flashlight to Daryl and grabs one of the wooden chairs, smashing it into the ground. It shatters into pieces and he hurriedly grabs them.

“Get your clothes off,” Rick says, shivering himself as he sits on the cold concrete ground of the basement.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Daryl groans, but he throws off his shirt and tosses it into the corner. Rick rushes to the boxes and starts upending them, finding old bills and family letters. He dumps them with the chair and then he pulls the lighter out of his backpack and sets an energy bill on fire, holds it in the center of the makeshift pile until it catches. The wood starts to burn, the flames licking at it and by this time, Daryl is working on his belt, muttering under his breath, his whole body practically convulsing from the cold.

Rick grabs the other chair now and pushes it against the wall so he can stand on it to open the two small windows for ventilation. Neither is big enough for a Walker to stick anything but its hand through and they need a place for the smoke to go when the fire really starts kicking up. With the windows secure, he turns to the rest of the boxes and rifles through them, but there is nothing useful. Christmas supplies, cans of paint, a china set. Frustrated, he leaves the last two unopened and he grabs the suitcase and rips into it. For once the universe must really like them, because it is full of clothes and bathroom supplies, ready and prepared for its owner to leave. Rick grabs a large flannel shirt and whips it at Daryl hard. “Dry yourself off,” he says and Daryl nods, fumbling now with the fastenings on his pants and cursing. Rick looks at him, notices his sluggish movements, how his fingers can’t get the clasps right, and how his body is no longer shivering, but sitting dangerously still.

Rick crosses the few feet between them in one bound and slides next to Daryl. He grabs at Daryl’s hands and they are ice cold. “ _Shit_ ,” Rick says, but he puts the worry out of his mind and works on getting Daryl out of his clothes. It takes him longer than he wants, but eventually Daryl is naked and the wet clothes are strewn in the corner. Rick throws the dry shirt he found around Daryl’s shoulders and pats him dry, trying to get all the freezing water off his skin. Daryl sags against him and curls into himself as much as he can.

Rick knows it’s not nearly warm enough. So he leaves Daryl and rushes to the suitcase again, finds several more items of clothes and starts throwing them Daryl’s way. Daryl picks them up and piles them on top of himself slowly. And then the suitcase is empty except for the bags of shampoo, soap, and other personal items. So Rick turns to the last two boxes and squeezes his eyes shut momentarily. He prays for blankets, for towels, for some kind of wood to add to the fire.

He lifts the lids and underneath both is craft supplies. He sets his jaw, but starts rifling through the glitter and the printed designs until he feels something soft hit his hand at the very bottom of the first box. He throws the other items out and reaches for it, drags it out, and it’s a blanket--pure white and ready to be painted, but soft and warm and just what he needs.

Rick takes it over to Daryl and he removes the damp shirt from Daryl’s shoulders and grabs clothes from the pile that he think will fit. He clothes Daryl in a pair of boxers and a far too loose shirt and then shimmies out of his own clothing--not wet like Daryl’s, but cold and damp from flurries. He throws on his own pair of shorts and a shirt and then sits next to Daryl, wrapping the blanket over the both of them and pulling Daryl’s back to his chest, rubbing frantically at his arms and legs to get them warmer.

Daryl curls into him and his body starts shivering. Rick takes it as a good sign and keeps rubbing his arms, letting the fire that he’s built under the windows start to warm them. Slowly, Daryl’s skin feels less like frost and Rick starts to relax. The herd is outside, above them, but they can’t get in and the room is warming up and they will be safe here for the time being.

With that rush of relief, though, comes over things. The back of Rick’s mind that was shut off opens and his arms suddenly become more aware that they are holding Daryl, his mouth becomes aware that it is practically pressed to the back of Daryl’s head, and his groin becomes aware that they are very close indeed.

Rick tenses slightly and clears his throat. It’s not like these are the first thoughts that he’s had concerning Daryl. Ever since the farm, he’s realized a stirring within himself of physical and emotional attraction. And then last year’s hard months of running on the road, the prison, Lori’s death, and the long summer and fall trying to make a life for themselves has only solidified the bond between them. He is inseparable from Daryl. Whenever they are not together, he wants to be. When Daryl isn’t happy, he isn’t either. When he can’t see him, he is on edge. And that means something.

So Rick holds him just the tiniest bit tighter and whispers into the silent room. “You warmer?”

Daryl grunts and then turns a little so he can look at Rick over his shoulder. He nods. “Yeah. Feeling better.”

Rick rubs his arms again and then picks up a shirt from the pile and starts drying off Daryl’s matted and damp hair. His heart races and he’s this close to leaning in like he’s been wanting to, but then Daryl is pulling away, shifting closer to the fire. “Sorry,” Daryl mumbles. “Cold.”

Rick nods and drapes the blanket around Daryl’s shoulders and sits next to him, huddled, but not touching. He thinks of the times before when they’ve been like that--so close, staring at one another, the moment high and tense. And then he would lean in just the tiniest bit and Daryl would back off. Rick sighs and understands it for what it must be--Daryl’s non interest in other men or maybe just his non interest in Rick.

“Getting dark,” Daryl says, breaking Rick out of his own thoughts.

Rick nods. “Yeah. Too dark to go back. Figure we’ll sleep here. Hopefully by then the herd will have moved on and we can make a clear shot.”

Daryl nods and frowns. “Yeah,” he says. “Still cold, though.”

Rick looks at the burning chair and then the furniture that he didn’t smash. “Not much for firewood,” he says. “Have to do, though.”

Daryl nods and they fall into silence.

***

When Daryl is warm enough they stand up and rearrange. They unbutton a jacket from the suitcase and spread several larger shirts out to form a small amount of padding on the concrete floor and then they throw the blanket over themselves for warmth. They huddle down, close to each other and try to sleep.

But Rick can’t. He lays there in the room, blinking and staring at Daryl’s back. The shirt is too loose for Rick to see his figure and he’s buried by the blanket anyway, but Rick knows it well enough that he can close his eyes and imagine. He can imagine other things, too. Like leaning forward and slipping his arm around Daryl’s waist, putting his nose right next to the back of his neck and kissing that sweet spot where his hair stops hiding his skin. Rick can imagine turning him over, kissing him. Can imagine the way Daryl’s arms would feel around him, the way Daryl’s chest would feel pressed to his, their hips sliding together and…

And he stops. Because now is not the time to do this and it’s clear that Daryl doesn’t want it. So Rick sighs and shifts himself around, being careful not to touch Daryl or let him know exactly what is going on with Rick’s lower body.

But Daryl must hear him fidgeting because he turns his head slightly to look over his shoulder. “S’alright?” He asks and Rick nods.

“Yeah, fine,” he says back and shifts again. “Concrete’s not too comfortable.”

Daryl shrugs. “Had worse,” he says and Rick thinks he’s right. Haven’t they all?

The fire is dying down and Rick is pretty sure that he’ll have to get up in the next half an hour to feed it, but for right now, they are semi-warm and as comfortable as they will get tonight, so Rick sighs again and closes his eyes, tries not to think of the blue-gray of Daryl’s eyes boring into him when he looked over his shoulder. Tries not to think about what he would look like being kissed senseless.

But the middle of the night in an abandoned cabin with Walkers on top of you does funny things to a person. And Rick can’t stop thinking. He can’t stop _wondering_ , even though he’s managed to avoid it this long. He figures that one day he’s going to have to push it, going to have to be very clear-- _do you want to just fuck me?_ \--and make Daryl answer him. Make him tell Rick what is true, the way he looks at him like he wants to pull him closer or the way he moves away.

So Rick reaches out, under the blanket, and puts his hand on Daryl’s side. He feels Daryl tense and his breath hitch, but he doesn’t take Rick’s hand away. So Rick scoots a little closer and wraps his arm more thoroughly around Daryl. He can hear Daryl’s breathing, so even he thinks that the other man must be focusing on the in and outs of his breath. Rick figures now or never so he slides further and pulls Daryl to him, pushes his hips up against Daryl’s ass and does what he wanted to earlier--leans forward and presses his lips to Daryl’s skin.

Daryl gasps, so small and quick Rick almost doesn’t hear it. And then, quietly, “Rick?”

Rick pushes himself forward against Daryl, wanting no room for error. “Yeah?” Rick says and kisses his skin again.

Daryl turns around then, rotates his body under the blanket so that they’re facing each other and Daryl’s eyes are intense, storming and so real Rick wonders if anything in his life has ever been this true. Daryl opens his mouth just slightly, his lips parted, and stares at Rick. So Rick leans forward slowly, inch by inch until their noses are touching. “Daryl,” Rick whispers and he feels himself grow harder as Daryl blinks, his eyelashes so close Rick can barely even see them. And then Daryl is leaning in just as much as he is and their lips meet and Daryl’s are still parted so Rick sucks in his bottom lip and Daryl groans hard.

Encouraged, Rick presses forward and tilts his head to a better angle so he can move his lips against Daryl’s. And then Daryl’s tongue is there, running over his top lip and Rick opens his mouth to let him in and then Daryl’s tongue touches his and electricity breaks out over Rick’s body, leaving little goosebumps behind.

Daryl moves then, shifting his body just the smallest amount to Rick’s and then Rick is turning over on his back and Daryl is following him and Rick isn’t sure if he moved there on his own or if Daryl placed him there or if it even matters. Rick moves his hand to the back of Daryl’s neck and he feels Daryl jump under his touch. He pulls his lips away and mutters “sorry,” but Daryl shakes his head and then they are kissing again, Daryl’s tongue diving back into his mouth and Rick thinks if even this is all he gets, he’ll die happy.

Rick reaches up again and puts his hand on Daryl’s neck and this time Daryl doesn’t jump. So Rick starts moving his hand down, over Daryl’s shoulder and then his chest. He kisses Daryl passionately, arching up into him and then Rick’s hand is sitting right there, right below his stomach and Rick goes for it.

He slides his hand under the waistband of Daryl’s shorts and finds him half-hard and Rick thinks it will be his personal mission to finish the job. Daryl’s mouth lets go of Rick’s and then he lets a little cry go when Rick touches him and he looks down into Rick’s eyes and Rick can’t blink in that moment, because there’s so much emotion there and he doesn’t know what to do with that except kiss it out of Daryl. And so he does, leaning up and meeting his lips again and this time, Daryl falls against him, clinging and Rick suddenly wants to feel him skin-to-skin. With the hand that’s not on Daryl’s cock, Rick starts to move the shirt up.

And then Daryl pulls back a little, looks down at him and whispers. “I’ve never fucked before. Don’t want to make a big deal out of it, though.”

Rick blinks and both of his hands stop. Daryl thrusts forward into Rick’s hand just a little, but Rick pulls it away, puts both of his hands on Daryl’s hips. “Like...never?” he asks.

Daryl swallows and then shakes his head. Rick stares up at him. “So this is...your first gay time?”

Daryl lets out a hard breath and closes his eyes for a beat before opening them again. “No. Never...with anyone.”

Rick studies him and then opens his mouth to ask him if he’s sure he wants to do this, but then Daryl’s eyes are narrowed and he’s rolling away, his back to Rick again. “ _Fuck_ ,” Daryl whispers, mostly to himself and then shifts around. “Nevermind.”

Rick blinks at Daryl’s back and then he slowly turns and looks at the ceiling, trying to process. He would never imagine that Daryl Dixon would be...he can barely think it. A virgin. He thinks he should probably roll over as well, call the idea quits. But his lips are still tingling from Daryl’s and he can still taste him on his mouth and fuck, trying to forget is never going to work.

Rick keeps staring at the ceiling and says softly into the room, “I want you to fuck me.”

For a moment, Daryl doesn’t do anything. And then he leans up and looks at Rick over his shoulder again and Rick curses how the fire is going out, turning into gray ash and embers that don’t give enough light for him to study Daryl’s eyes.

Daryl blinks at him. “We got anything?” he asks and then Rick looks into the corner of the room, at the suitcase and nods his head. Daryl slides out of the covers and starts rooting around until he finally pulls out a small bottle. He laughs. “The apocalypse’s Walmart,” he says and then he’s back over to Rick, taking his clothes off and Rick is too, throwing them to the side out of the blanket. And then Daryl is sliding in the covers beside him and Rick pulls his naked body back in and they are kissing again.

Daryl’s skin is slightly chilled from being out of the covers and the temperature difference between them shouldn’t be as sexy as it is. Rick opens his mouth for Daryl and Daryl takes advantage of it, tangling his hand in Rick’s hair and then he is moaning into Rick’s mouth and Rick’s cock twitches with appreciation.

Daryl presses forward, pushing their bodies together and Rick can feel his erection slid up nicely against his thigh and Rick smiles against Daryl’s mouth and mutters, “You gonna fuck me or what?”

Daryl pulls back and smiles, then licks his lips. “I’m really hot for you,” he says, almost like he can’t believe it and Rick doesn’t blame him, because he doesn’t believe this is happening either, because good things like this don’t just happen to people these days.

But Rick is not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he pulls Daryl back in and kisses him and picks up the bottle that Daryl brought over and pops the lid. Daryl pulls away and blinks at him and watches Rick with a kind of fascination as he prepares himself, enough to make Rick slightly self-conscious. He pulls Daryl’s mouth down and tilts his neck up and Daryl gets with the program, kissing the side of his neck and then leaning up to bite down on his jawline. Rick arches up into him and his cock slides against Daryl’s skin and it’s so deliciously hot that he almost goes cross-eyed.

And then he’s ready and he puts a hand on the back of Daryl’s neck and looks at him, studying him in the dying light. “Good?” he asks and Daryl nods and then he’s settling between Rick’s legs and Rick is wrapping his legs up and around Daryl’s body and Daryl is positioning himself and sliding in.

Rick cuts off his own moan and Daryl pauses for just a beat before pressing forward. Rick nods at him and digs his nails into Daryl’s shoulder and then Daryl leans down and is kissing him again and Rick can’t help but open his mouth and let him, taking his tongue and his cock in as far as it will go in Rick’s body.

Rick feels Daryl hard and straight within him and he whimpers into Daryl’s mouth and then Daryl is pulling almost all the way out and pushing back in and it’s been so long since Rick has had this and his mind lets go of a belated realization that it’s not just been the apocalypse, it’s been fucking _years_ , a decade even, since he felt this hot and this good.

He pulls his mouth away and tangles his hands in Daryl’s hair, pulling upward just slightly so he can look into his eyes. “Fuck me,” he says, breathlessly and Daryl nods and is, pulling out easily and pushing back in hard, rocking with Rick’s body in perfect rhythm. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” Rick says and then leans forward, putting his nose in the crook of Daryl’s chin and his neck, dragging it upward until his lips are at Daryl’s jawline and he’s biting down.

Daryl bucks forward into him hard and Rick cries out with the tension building in his body and then Daryl is reaching between them to start stroking Rick and is speeding up, hitting him hard and then with just a shift of Rick’s hips and a slight change in Daryl’s angle, he’s hitting that perfect spot deep within Rick and Rick moans loudly, his voice echoing off the barren walls.

The room is almost pitch black now and so Rick can’t see Daryl, but he can feel him, their skin clinging together like static and Daryl is whispering things that are practically incoherent, only Rick can make out his own name and things like _want_ , like _need_. His hand on Rick’s cock is hard and fast, just like the thrusts into Rick’s body and Rick bites down on his lip to hold himself back. And then Daryl is bending down to him, kissing his mouth open with determination and passion and he slams forward into him and Rick kisses back just as hard, just as needy and then Daryl is pulling his mouth away just enough so that he can speak to Rick in the darkness and Rick’s heart skips at the next words, his eyes wide and dilated.

“I love you.”

But then Daryl is kissing him again, not giving him any chance to say anything, not a single second to process it and then Daryl is hitting him hard and coming and Rick’s body tenses with it, feeling Daryl spend himself deep inside of Rick and that’s far too much, so Rick is coming too, clinging to Daryl and digging his nails in, arching into him and touching every single inch of skin he can get to.

When it’s over, Daryl rolls away. Rick takes a second to catch his breath and then he reaches out for Daryl, but Daryl’s skin jumps under his touch like an electric shock, as if it was a Walker’s hand and not Rick’s. Rick frowns and opens his mouth to ask, but Daryl is cutting him off.

“Sorry,” he says. “But please don’t touch me.” And then his back is to Rick’s again and he’s curling in around himself, bringing even his head under the covers. Rick blinks, surprised and confused, but he lowers his hand and keeps it on his side of the makeshift bed.

He leaves Daryl alone and wonders what it all meant.

***

In the morning, the Walkers are thankfully gone. Rick and Daryl gather their things and shake their old clothes out, putting them on despite the slight dampness. Rick tries hard not to check out Daryl’s ass as he slides his pants back up his body, but his eyes refuse to look away. Daryl catches him looking and raises an eyebrow, zips himself up and turns around. Rick turns away and wonders if the man has temporary amnesia, because it’s hard to think that someone could drop the “L” bomb and then not say something about it.

But then again, Rick didn’t say it back. Not that he had the opportunity as Daryl didn’t even give him a second to respond before he dove right back into Rick’s mouth. But Rick could have said it after. Hell, he could say it right now. Except he needs time to think it all through, even if he’s sure deep within himself that he actually _does_ love Daryl. Because that’s not something that’s easy to say, especially with a guy that keeps looking at you like he wants to break your jaw in. And even if Daryl was looking at him like was last night, focused in on Rick like there wasn’t anything else, how could Rick do that to him? Because to love someone in this world, unconditionally, is rough. Dangerous, even.

But Daryl said it. And so he must want to hear it back. Or else, it was something he said in the moment and he regrets it. Rick’s not sure which one it is and he’s not comfortable asking right now, especially when Daryl is all but glowering at him and keeping a fair amount of distance between their bodies.

So Rick lets it all go for now, shoves it down in the back of his mind as something to mull over when they’re back at the prison, and opens the trapdoor. The Walkers have left the cabin and the herd has moved on, but there are a couple of stragglers still shuffling about. Rick starts forward to take care of them, but Daryl breezes past him with his knife in his hand and grabs one by its rotting hair and jabs the knife up roughly, angrily, into the brain. The body falls and he turns to the others, making just as short work with those fierce, irritable stabs. Rick swallows and wonders what he did to make the guy so pissed off.

He thinks that maybe they should talk about it, but Daryl is stomping off in the direction of the prison, forcing Rick to catch up, and it doesn’t look at all like he’s in the mood for conversation.

***

Daryl avoids him for two days straight and it’s weird for several reasons. For one, Rick has no idea what happened in the cabin to turn Daryl from staring at him with those open eyes, moving in him so smoothly and kissing him so passionately into pushing him away and cringing at his touch, glaring at him, and storming off. At first, he thinks that it’s because he didn’t say he loved him back, but Daryl’s quick turning away from him, the physical silence he put between the two of them mere seconds after he had said it...it has to be something else. Rick keeps going over it in his mind and coming to the same conclusion--Daryl must not have liked the sex. Rick must have been shit at it. And that’s really depressing considering that it was Daryl’s first time and Rick just blew that out of the water, didn’t he?

The other reason Daryl being away from him is so weird, though, is that Rick can’t remember a day when Daryl wasn’t right beside him. And apparently no one else can either, because Rick has to mumble an excuse to Maggie, Glenn, Hershel and even Beth--all who ask him what he and Daryl are fighting about. It’s awkward and it’s strange, so Rick takes to hanging out in the inner part of the prison, scanning it for roaming Walkers even though he knows that the place is secure.

Sometimes, he sits with his back against the wall in the long hallway and throws a tennis ball Maggie and Glenn brought back from a supply run against the wall for some small measure of escape. This is where Daryl finds him on day three.

Daryl rounds the corner and sees him and Rick watches the transformation in his body, from the calm, collected Daryl he sees with the group to the Daryl he sees sometimes when they’re alone--quiet, tense, and oddly vulnerable. Rick stops throwing the ball and nods to him, looks at Daryl’s frame hidden by the poncho.

Daryl grunts and moves forward, sits down beside Rick. “Hey,” he says, his voice low and rough.

“Hey,” Rick says and starts fiddling with the ball, twirling it around in his hand.

They sit there for a moment, neither one of them looking at the other and then Daryl speaks. “Figure I owe you an explanation,” he says and sighs heavily.

Rick tenses and shakes his head. “Don’t owe me anything,” he says. “If it wasn’t good, it wasn’t good.”

Daryl sighs and picks at a spot on the floor. “Was good,” he says.

Rick looks over at him, his brow furrowed. “Then why…?” he asks and the question hangs in the air.

Daryl shrugs and still won’t look at him. “Complicated,” he says and scratches the spot of dried something that Rick doesn’t want to think about. Rick doesn’t have anything to say to that, so he holds out, waits until the silence gets too heavy and Daryl sighs again. “I, uh…” Daryl clears his throat. “Don’t do people.”

Rick shrugs. “Figured that out.”

“I know,” Daryl says and then pulls his hands away from the spot, claps them together to get the dust off and then rubs them on his pants. “But I don’t. I don’t do people and I don’t even want to.”

Rick figures he’s really lost the thread of the conversation, so he tries to get it back on track. “I’m not sure what happened, but...it was good for me.”

Daryl looks at him then and Rick sees that emotion hanging in his eyes, the same that was there right when Rick touched him. “It was good for me, too,” Daryl says, softly and then squeezes his eyes shut hard and brings his heel to his right eye and rubs it. “I’ve never been good at the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ conversations.”

Rick wrinkles his brow. “I don’t...Daryl, I don't understand. What do you need from me? Tell me. I’ll give it to you. Do you need me to say it back? Because I feel it. I was just confused the other night and just taken aback, but I do. Daryl, I l--”

Daryl says “no” with such force that for a moment, it floors Rick. “No, man,” he says and shakes his head again, looking away from Rick and at the wall. “Don’t say that. Whatever you were going to say, _don’t_. Don’t go there.” He swallows. “I’m sorry. But I can’t. I can’t give you what you want. I know...it’s hard. I shouldn’t have…” He swallows. “I shouldn’t have had sex with you and I shouldn’t have led you on. That’s all on me. Okay? And I am sorry, Rick. I am. But we can’t do this. _I_ can’t do this. I’m not built for relationships, alright? I’m not built to do this and I wish I was. God, I wish I was for you, but I can’t be.”

He turns his head and then Rick can see his forward movement, the muscles bunching to stand, and he shoots a hand out and grabs Daryl’s wrist. Daryl jumps like before, but Rick doesn’t let go. “Daryl,” he says and then stops himself, not even sure how to ask what he wants to know. “I...I don’t understand. Could you...help me understand?”

Daryl looks at him again and then nods slowly. He pulls his wrist out from Rick’s and rubs it, like Rick’s touch burned him. “I…” he sighs. “I don’t have sex with people because I don’t want to have sex with people,” he says.

Rick blinks. “Okay?” he says and just lets Daryl continue.

Daryl shakes his head, frustrated. “This is so goddamn hard to explain,” he says and then takes a deep breath. “I’m not into sex. I don’t like sex and I don’t need it. Not...usually. The cabin…” he frowns and Rick watches his jaw twitch. Daryl rolls his eyes to the ceiling. “The cabin was the first time that I’d come in…” He shakes his head and Rick watches the familiar motions of someone counting in their head. “...four weeks? A month. And it’s the first time I’ve liked it in...god, probably five years. I don’t do that. I’m not... a sex kind of guy. I’m just not and I know that makes me a _fucking freak_ \--”

“Hey,” Rick cuts in. “It’s okay. It’s just a condition--”

“It’s not a condition,” Daryl snaps. “It’s who I am.”

Rick nods, because he doesn’t know what else to do. Daryl swallows and says, “I’ve never been into it. Until the other night, I didn’t think I was ever going to have sex. And then you…” He shuts his eyes and bangs his head against the wall. “You are the only person in this whole fucked up world that I have _ever_ been attracted to. But I can’t...I don’t know if it’s a one-time thing or not. And even now, I don’t think I’m going to be what you want me to be. So it’s best if we just...not.” Daryl turns his head to the side, away from Rick and Rick just stares at him.

“We could try?” he asks Daryl, but Daryl shakes his head and stands.

“No,” he says. “I’m not going to fuck this up for you.” He squares his shoulders. “I’m going to walk out of here and we’re going to go back to how we were before the cabin. I’ll always be your friend, Rick. I’ll always be your right hand man and I will never leave your side.”

Rick stares at him, notes his unblinking expression, the set of his jaw. And Rick nods. But as Daryl turns away, he calls after him one more time. “Daryl?” he asks and then stands too. “You said you loved me?”

Daryl turns to him slowly and then he averts his eyes, staring at Rick’s feet instead of his face. “Yeah,” he says. “I did.” And then he walks away and Rick thinks that it feels very much like the end of everything.

***

Rick’s head is spinning for days. He has no idea what to do with any of this information and he’s not even sure he understands it. True to Daryl’s word, though, they go back to how they were before. They even run another supply mission together, hit a far out shopping center and find more formula for Judith. They act as if nothing has happened and it both comforts and saddens Rick.

It feels like the only thing he thinks about these days is Daryl. He parses through it in his mind as good as he can. He thinks about the way Daryl acts toward him--about how his body is always angled toward Rick’s, but never touching. About how Daryl pulls away when others comment on his intimacy. About how he’s never seen Daryl look at anyone in that way--and with being in such close quarters, he’s seen _everyone_ look at someone in that way.

But Daryl...doesn’t like sex. He says that to himself over and over again. Daryl doesn’t like sex. He wonders what that is--if it’s some kind of medical condition, his hormones going wacky or his body just not functioning right. Or maybe it’s just celibacy by choice. But neither of those options seem to really fit and he wonders if Daryl just really has no sexual attractions. Or very few, because he obviously liked it with Rick from the way that he was acting. From the fact that he finished.

But that weirds Rick out, too, because what if he didn’t like it? The body liking it is totally different from the mind and what if Rick had...what if it hadn’t been consensual? He keeps playing the night over and over in his mind, trying to decide if he pressured Daryl. But then he thinks of the way Daryl laid him down, of the way he kissed him. But then he thinks of his own arm sliding over Daryl and pulling him in without asking if that was okay.

Rick has so many questions and no one to talk to. Which is why Glenn gets the short end of the stick. Daryl is out hunting alone for once and Rick and Glenn are walking the fence on their morning security check when Rick blurts out, “Did you ever know someone who didn’t like sex?”

Glenn blinks. “Uh...every girl I tried to hit on in college?”

Rick rolls his eyes. “I mean, seriously. Have you ever heard of that? Someone who just doesn’t like sex.”

Glenn shakes his head. “Like...asexual? My sister said she was. And I guess I watched a _Tyra_ episode about that once.”

“Asexual,” Rick says, trying out how it sounds on his tongue. “What...what even is that?”

Glenn shrugs. “Don’t know, really. Never understood it myself. My sister...well, I always wondered if she was doing it just to be cool or if she was just saying that so her boyfriend would stop groping her all the time.”

Rick leans forward to shake a part of the fence, tests its strength level. “So is it like a medical condition, you think?”

“ _Tyra_ seemed to say it was a lifestyle,” Glenn said. “You know, like heterosexuality or bisexuality or something. Just, I guess, whatever you’re used to.”

“Like the absence of sex,” Rick says, mostly to himself.

“Yeah,” Glenn says. “My sister always swore she hated sex and would always hate it. Thought maybe she just never found the right guy.”

“So,” Rick says and turns to Glenn. “If it’s really just a thing. Just a...this is who I am, how I was born, I don’t like sex...if Maggie came to you and said she didn’t. Would you still date her?”

Glenn blinks and then looks around like Maggie might pop out of the bushes and this is all just a test. “Um...that’s, like, a really hard question, dude,” he says.

Rick sighs and nods. “Yeah.”

“I mean,” Glenn continues, “I want to say yes. Because I love her. But I’m a guy and this is an apocalypse and that is 100% totally selfish, but I like my sex, man.”

Rick shakes his head and looking off into the distance. “Me, too.”

Glenn shrugs. “Good thing Maggie likes to pretend we’re a couple of rabbits and we need to make a new Thumper, though,” Glenn says and then he’s walking across the road and Rick is blinking, trying to forget the images popping into his head.

***

Rick figures it’s unfair to corner a man, but it’s not like Daryl really likes to talk about his feelings and Rick figures it’ll be like pulling teeth to get him to say anything about this, so he takes the opportunity to pin him in the guard tower when he’s on watch duty.

“I have questions,” he says by way of greeting.

Daryl blinks and then he scoffs, looking out over the field. “No,” he says. “We’re not going to do this.”

“Look,” Rick says and walks closer to him, but doesn’t try to reach out for fear that Daryl will jump again and it will set him off. “I just want a little information.”

Daryl shakes his head. “No, you want to know things so you can try to make this work and it’s not going to work, Rick. I’m not going to do it, because I can’t give you what you want and you’ll resent that.”

“I’m not going to resent--”

“I’m done talking,” Daryl says and tries to walk past him, but Rick steps in his way easily and meets his hard stare.

“You don’t get to do that,” Rick says and Daryl furrows his brow and blinks. Rick looks at him standing there, strong and graceful, but cut off. Emotionally vacant. Rick thinks about the cabin, about what he saw in those gray-blue eyes, soft like the sky and hard like concrete. “You don’t get to take all that away from me,” Rick says again and sets his stance, making a point. “The way you kissed me...you don’t get to take it away. How you looked at me. How you touched me.” He pauses and searches Daryl’s gaze. “The way you felt in me.” Daryl takes a breath and looks away, but Rick continues. “The way you said you loved me,” he says softly. Daryl squeezes his eyes shut. “You can’t take that back. Especially when…” Rick sighs. “When I know you felt it. And…” he reaches forward for Daryl, but remembers he’s not supposed to touch him, so his hand falls down uselessly at his side. “And when I feel it, too. When I love you.”

Daryl snaps his gaze up to Rick and Rick sees the storm there again and he grabs hold of it, willing Daryl to stay with him in the moment and let it cascade over them--wind and rain and turbulence. “You love me?” Daryl asks and Rick nods.

“Yeah. I do. And...I will. No matter what. No matter anything. There’s no one else in the whole world that I could love more. Daryl…” Rick lifts his hand again and it hangs in the air between them, curved toward Daryl, but Rick takes it back, rubs his eyes with it instead. “If we don’t do this...okay. That’s what you want. I’ll give you anything you want. But I’m not going to go and shack up with someone else for sex, if that’s what you’re implying. I’m not going to just go date again. Not when I have everything I need right here in front of me. You pushing me away...it doesn’t make me happy. If that’s what you’re trying to do. It doesn’t. It makes me miss you.”

Daryl shakes his head hard and looks away, takes a step back. “You think you want it now, but not later. Not when we’re laying there together and I’m not at all in the mood and you just want to fuck and it’s been weeks or months since we’ve actually done it.”

“No,” Rick says and shakes his head. “No, it’s not going to be like that.”

“What’s it going to be like, then?” Daryl asks and frowns.

Rick slides his body just an inch closer to Daryl and really looks at him. “God, you bastard,” he says and then takes a deep breath. “I would rather spend one night with you, freezing my _ass_ off and laying there, not touching, than I would spend the rest of my life having sex with someone, _anyone_ , that’s not you.” He sighs and looks at the ground and then shrugs. “And...okay, you’re right. I’ll probably complain about it. And I want to have sex. I do. And you’re just going to have to deal with the fact that I’m going to jack it a lot thinking about your dick, but…” Rick looks up at him now. “I’m not going to do something you don’t want. I’m not going to force you. And I’m not going to resent you for anything like that because it’s you. That’s what you said, right? This is just who you are? And I love you. I love everything about you. So...this is who you are. And I love you.”

Daryl stands there for a moment, blinking, and then he slowly, about imperceptibly, nods. “Okay.”

Rick nods back. “Okay,” he says. “So...I want to try this. I want to try us. You just tell me what the rules are and if I can touch you, if you like that. And if I can kiss you. And when we do it and when we don’t or if we never do. You tell me all those things and I’ll do what you want. Because I want to be with you.”

Daryl sighs heavily and then he scratches the back of his neck and looks off at the field and then back at Rick. “I’m not that big of a toucher. But you can. You just have to tell me when you’re going to do it and give a guy some warning. And then we can…” he wrinkles his nose, like he hates the word, “cuddle and shit. And I like kissing. I mean, I like it a lot. At least, if it’s going to be like we did last time because that was, um, the first time that I had ever kissed anyone.” Rick’s eyebrows go up into his hairline, but he doesn’t interrupt Daryl as he continues on. “But I want to kiss you again. I think about it a lot and that is totally on the table. And sex...well, you’re just going to have to wait until I make a move. And if I don’t, it means I don’t want to. I don’t think about sex that often. Hardly at all, except for thinking about how I _should_ be thinking about sex or thinking about how other people think I’m weird because I _don’t_ think about sex. And I’ve never thought about someone like that before. I don’t fantasize about people. Except...you. In the cabin. In that moment. You have to understand that was the first time, the _first time_ , that I have _ever_ looked at _anyone_ and thought I wanted to fuck them.”

“Why me?” Rick asks, the question having been burning in his mind ever since. “I mean, why me? Did I...did I force you? Did I pressure you? I’m not that hot of a guy, so--”

“It has nothing to do with how hot you are,” Daryl says. “Not for me. Although, you _are_. But that’s what makes me different, that I don’t care about appearance. It’s the emotion that’s hot. It’s me loving you and hoping you love me. I’ve never been in love before, so I guess I never knew this was even possible. But in that moment, I loved you so much and it was so intense that my body just decided it wanted to do something it doesn’t usually do. For you.”

“But was it for you, too?” Rick asks.

Daryl shrugs. “Yeah. I mean...yeah. I liked it. If I hadn’t wanted to do it, I wouldn't have. You didn’t force me. I had plenty of opportunities to say no.”

“Am I forcing you into a relationship now?”

Daryl shakes his head. “You can’t make me do anything I don’t want to do, Rick.”

“Well, then, do you want to try a relationship?” Rick asks and his heart is pounding out of his chest waiting for the answer.

Daryl blinks and then he nods, gives just the tiniest of smiles. “Yeah. If you respect all my limits, yeah.”

“I will,” Rick says. “I always will. You just tell me no, it’s no. You tell me I’m doing something wrong and I will fix it.”

“Okay,” Daryl says and nods. “Okay. So we try.”

“We try,” Rick says and swallows. “Can I...kiss you now?”

Daryl looks into his eyes and this time Rick can put a label on the emotion there--love. And desire. Maybe not physical desire, but at least a romantic one and that is perfectly enough for Rick. Daryl nods, says “yeah” quietly, and then Rick is stepping forward, lifting his hand slowly to put it on Daryl’s neck and feeling how Daryl’s skin molds to him this time instead of jumping away. And that right there is the damn hottest thing that Rick has ever felt and he feels that he might explode with his own emotion churning within him.

And so he kisses him. Slides their lips together and tilts Daryl’s head toward him and feels Daryl respond in kind just as thoroughly, as passionately, as they had in the cabin. Daryl’s lips cling to his and then break away ever so slightly before returning again, moving in perfect tandem with Rick’s. And fuck everything else, Rick thinks, as Daryl’s tongue weaves into his mouth, as his hand rests so lightly on Rick’s hip.

***

Rick lets Daryl lead. He takes a mental step back and allows Daryl to dictate all the small decisions of their relationship. Daryl joins him in sleeping in the same cell and they set two mattresses on the floor together, but it’s about 50/50 whether he wants Rick cuddling up to him at night. They tell the others that they are in a relationship, but they don’t tell them any details. Glenn keeps giving Rick looks, but Rick ignores them.

Over the next few weeks, Rick takes a backseat and he just examines and processes. He finds that about half of the time, it feels like nothing has changed--he goes on runs with Daryl, they take watch shifts together, they laugh and talk the same as they always do. But the other half of the time, it’s new and exciting, because Rick can kiss him, put his hands on his hips or his neck or his chest. When Daryl agrees to touch, he _agrees_ and he touches Rick just as easily and happily as Rick touches him. But when he doesn’t want it, he says so and Rick backs off, has to be content to just stare at him across the joined mattresses, keeping his hands to himself.

He learns rhythms pretty easy. Things like never to touch Daryl when his back is turned and how Daryl never really likes spooning. But he also learns that Daryl has a special longing for his hair to be played with and that he likes it when Rick nuzzles up right under his chin. He knows that Daryl doesn’t like to cuddle at night and that he’s much more likely to pull Rick in as they wake up in the morning. And all that’s okay. Rick takes it at face value and he learns what Daryl’s little sounds mean--his sighs of “this is okay,” his grunts of “not now.”

They don’t have sex. At least, not until two weeks in. They are laying together in the evening, the area around them quiet. Carol has watch on the guard tower and Carl has taken the inside watch. Glenn and Maggie are nowhere to be found and no one is looking for them too hard. And there’s a poker game going on in the open common area between Hershel, Axel, and Oscar, who are all trying to teach Beth to play. So, with Rick and Daryl up in the top corner cell, there’s no one around to hear them, no one around to walk in.

Daryl turns to Rick slowly and says, “Wanna fuck?” and Rick just nods and lays back, waiting for Daryl to decide what they’ll do. Daryl slides his own body down Rick’s easy and smooth, lifting Rick’s shirt to kiss at his chest and his stomach, and then he reaches the waistband of Rick’s pants and he starts undoing them.

“Daryl?” Rick asks and Daryl shakes his head.

“I want to,” he says and then he pulls Rick out and sucks him in. Rick watches as Daryl’s head bobs and he slides his tongue nicely down the underside of Rick’s cock. Rick moans softly into the cell and lays his head back on the mattress. He loses himself in Daryl’s mouth--the easy way he slides up and down, his tongue swirling on the tip. But then he has a thought. He lifts up on his elbows. “Do me?” he asks but Daryl pulls off and shakes his head. “I could suck you,” Rick says, but Daryl tells him no and attempts to go back down on Rick, but Rick knows what’s up. And what’s not. He catches Daryl’s wrist and he tugs him upward and Daryl sighs hard, but scoots up his body again and falls off to the side of Rick.

Rick looks down and then he shakes his head. “When you’re done with me are you going to want me to reciprocate?” he asks and Daryl just grunts a no.

“This is for you,” Daryl tells him.

Rick shakes his head. “No,” he says, “absolutely not. We’re not going to do that.”

Daryl frowns. “I want you to be happy.”

“What makes me happy is _being_ with you,” Rick says. “I don’t just want...fuck, I don’t just want release. I want to have sex with _you_ if we’re going to have sex. And if we’re not, okay. That’s okay. I can just lay here next to you. But no. You’re not going to suck me off when you’re not _into_ it. That’s not sexy. That’s not what I want.”

Daryl grinds his teeth and sits up. “Well, you gotta sometime,” he says. “Don’t look at me like that. We’ve been together practically every second of the last two weeks and you ain’t touched yourself. I know you haven’t, Rick. Just because you want to try this relationship we have going on does not mean that you have to be on my _schedule_.”

“So what do you want me to do?” Rick says. “Jack it while you’re lying beside me?”

“Yeah,” Daryl says. “Or let me suck you.”

Rick stares into his eyes and Daryl meets him easily. He doesn’t back down and so Rick shrugs. “Okay,” he says and he turns to the side and grabs himself in his own hand. Daryl lays beside him the whole time and at first, it’s incredibly awkward. Rick bites his lip and wants to ask him to join in, but he knows that Daryl doesn’t want that right now and so Rick has to change his whole entire mode of being. All of the social constructions that have been printed into his head about what is right and wrong and proper go flying out of the window. He’s not supposed to be touching himself when he’s in a relationship with someone. He’s supposed to save all of his sexual energy for them. And even if he doesn’t, he’s not supposed to touch himself in front of them like they can’t satisfy him. He’s supposed to turn toward them, touch them and be touched. But Daryl doesn’t want that. Daryl wants this.

At first, it’s difficult for Rick to even stay up, but as it goes on and as he realizes that Daryl is laying relaxed beside him, just waiting, totally okay and fine with this--wanting it even--it starts to kind of...turn him on. He thinks about what Daryl looks like lying on the other side of the mattress, what the angles of his neck are, what position his arms and his legs are in, how his eyes look. Rick stills his hand even though he’s rock hard. “Can I look at you?” he asks into the quiet of the cell.

Daryl sighs that accepting sigh that Rick has come to recognize as a yes and says softly, “Sure. Whatever you want.”

So Rick turns over slowly and he looks at Daryl laying there, being completely comfortable with all of this and not 100% awkward. Rick bites his lip and then he reaches down and touches himself again. Daryl watches him, not with lust in his eyes, but with some other kind of emotion there, something like connection and _being_.

Rick strokes himself experimentally and he watches as Daryl watches him and he realizes that that only turns him on more, so he gets into a nice rhythm and he soaks in Daryl’s body from afar--his eyes and his nose and his chest and his biceps and his hips and his knee, all propped up and angled. Rick gasps and Daryl smiles slowly. “Come on, Rick,” he says, “that all you got?” And then Rick really strokes himself hard and lets his eyes wander over Daryl’s body without any attempt at hiding it. And something strange happens then, Rick laying with his body bent toward Daryl, stroking himself. He realizes that this is hot--hotter than half the sex he’s had in his life in which there was actually a cock _in_ something. He says Daryl’s name and then he twists his wrist at just the right angle that he knows will get him there fast and then Daryl opens his mouth and says Rick’s name again and Rick’s hips buck forward and he comes right there between them. Daryl reaches forward just as he bucks and he holds out his hand right below Rick’s cock. Rick watches as his come lands in Daryl’s hand and his breath hitches. Daryl smiles at him slowly. “Looked like it was good,” he says and Rick just nods thoroughly. Daryl reaches to the side of the mattress, grabs a rag he has there and wipes his hand off, then gives it to Rick so he can tidy up.

Rick has so many things to say, but in the end all he can get out is, “You…”

Daryl shushes him and then rolls toward him, puts his hand on Rick’s neck and leans forward, presses their lips together. “Happy?” Daryl asks him and Rick nods fast and thoroughly. Daryl smiles. “Okay, then. We both got what we wanted.” He shrugs and then threads his fingers through Rick’s hair. “I think we can make this work. Don’t you?”

Rick nods. “You are the most sexy thing I have ever seen in my life,” Rick says. “How was that so--”

“Doesn’t matter,” Daryl cuts him off. ‘How it is. Just that it _is_.” Daryl leans forward and kisses him again and that night, he lets Rick curl up to him, nuzzling into his chest. Rick sighs happily into Daryl and thinks that if this is the only thing he will ever get, he’ll die happy, perfectly content, wanted, and loved.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first time exploring asexual feelings, so I hope I represented it accurately. While it didn't make it into the fic because I didn't feel the characters would talk about labels, I did base Daryl's sexuality loosely off of demisexual or gray asexual/gray A (but of course each person is individual and every label has a sliding scale and I tried to make Daryl's sexuality as complex and fluid as any real person's).


End file.
